Atropos's Tales
by Ashen Author
Summary: Short snippets from Fate. 1) Kariya summons a Servant better suited to oppose the King of Heroes. 2&3) A duel between the Riders of Zero and Stay Night! 4) A story transferred from elsewhere; Lancelot is not Berserker.
1. Chapter 1

This is not a new story, but the beginning of a bunch of snips I can get out of my system to focus on my real writing projects. May be up for adoption if anyone is interested

I do not own anything from the Nasuverse

* * *

Gilgamesh paused momentarily as the twisted aura of the mad Servant he had been sensing peaked, and Berserker appeared.

"Pathetic. For one of the few times in my life, I find that I must recant my words," he announced to the assembled Saber, Lancer, and Rider. "To call you dogs is to, I fear, leave me no apt descriptor for this poor mongrel. Pitiful thing."

Indeed, the Servant of Insanity seemed little more than an animal. Smaller than even the petite Saber, Berserker was crouched on all four and robed only in tattered rags that barely hid its sex. It's long, green hair was tangled and matted, hanging in a curtain a around its face as it sniffed the ground like a dog.

"Poor thing. I cannot imagine what legend gave birth to that, but to be summoned as Berserker could only tarnish its name," Lancer mused. Saber, however, merely tightened her grip on her sword. Yes, the Servant of Madness looked like an animal, she knew. But her rank A Instinct was screaming at her that there was far more to Berserker than met the eye.

"_Arrrr...rogann...t...kinnngg..."_ it moaned out. Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes and the Gate of Babylon swiveled around to face Berserker.

"At least you have sense enough to face the ground like the insect you are," Gilgamesh said, "but no. Your presence affronts me." Two golden rays of light lashed out from the Gate, the after images of the ancient phantasms that screamed through the air at Berserker. With a sound like a stone bell the ground exploded, creating a cloud of dust and shrapnel.

"W-wow. First Assassin, and now Berserker. J-just like that. Archer is..." Waver choked off.

"No," Rider corrected quietly. "It's not over." He grinned wolfishly. "Not. At. All!" The cloud cleared to show Berserker still hunched on the ground, intact, with a spear buried in the concrete beside it. It was propped up only on three limbs now, and in its left arm...

"I was going to give you a mercy killing, poor thing," Gilgamesh lamented. Then he narrowed his eyes. "But now you've had the audacity to touch one of my treasures. Now, this is an execution." The air rippled as thrice the number of phantasms appeared, aimed at the animalistic Servant who clutched a twisted, golden scimitar in its left hand. "Are you sane enough to give any final words, mongrel? Perhaps an apology, or a lament at the fruits of your arrogance?"

_"Ar...Arrrr...rogann...t..." _It's moan seemed half pleading, and half an attempt at sensuality. Saber's guts churned uncomfortably, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Rider just stood by watching, and Diarmuid seemed almost tempted to avert his eyes from the shameful scene. "_Rrr...rreppPp...p-pprrIiI...mmManD..."_

"Yes. Yes, you were arrogant. But at least you accept your reprimand with good grace." Gilgamesh nodded once, and the ancient lights of death lashed out.

"_Rr-rePprRimANdddddD!"_ Berserker howled, raising its face to the heavens in declaration and argument as the phantasms flew from the Gate. Simultaneously it shot to its feet and threw the scimitar it had seized into the oncoming attack. It ricocheted off a spear and into a broadsword, knocking both out of their paths.

Gilgamesh saw Berserker's face illuminated momentarily both in the glow of the moon, and in the lights of the striking treasures. The King of Hero's mind went *TILT*.

Berserker seized an oncoming sword, 'Durandall', by the blade as it approached the Servant's nose, its bare hand unharmed by the razor edge or momentum, and leapt into the sky with a feral scream.

"_RrEpRimAaAannNnddD_!" Berserker shrieked as it arced through the air, and as it reached parity of heights with the King of Heroes it swung Durandal by the blade and smashed the hilt into Gilgamesh's nose.

The King's vision flashed white with pain and he felt his nose break like an eggshell as the force of the blow threw him from his overseeing perch and sent him tumbling into a pile of crates. Gilgamesh didn't care.

The Mad Servant landed upon the place Gilgamesh had occupied, clinging like a lizard on a branch and howled his superiority. Gilgamesh didn't care.

Berseker sloppily heaved Durandal toward the King like a rotten piece of fruit. Gilgamesh didn't care.

The holy sword hummed through the sky, and only the Servant's bad aim saved his life as the hilt ricochet off of his armor hard enough to leave a bruise. Gilgamesh didn't care.

The warm feeling of flowing blood dripped down the King of Hero's face as he stared at his enemy, unfamiliar after so many years unchallenged, and tainted his regal mouth with copper and red. Gilgamesh didn't care.

But in the light of the moon the King could finally put a name to his animalistic enemy.

"E-_Enkidu_?" he whispered. The first True Companion snarled at its name as the first Hero stared.

And Gilgamesh found that he cared. He cared.

Very.

_Much_.

"_Ennnnkiiiiiduuuu_!" Gilgamesh howled, his vision as red as the blood on his face. And the Gates of Babylon opened wide, filling the sky with dozens of ancient weapons.

And golden light consumed the night.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Class: Berserker…...Name: Enkidu…...Alt Classes: Lancer, Saber, Archer, Caster

Strength: A  
Endure: A++  
Speed: B  
Mana: D  
Luck: E  
Phantasm: X

Mad Enhancement: B. Servant ranks up once in all stats, but mental processes are reduced almost to that of a trained animal.

Natural Body: B. Servant is treated as though it is permanently ranked up in strength and endurance. [Enkidu's body was made from clay by the gods.]

Instinct: A+. Servant can act instinctively in the best way towards the flow of battle, minimizing hesitation and confusion. Servant can even use skills that might otherwise be unavailable. [Enkidu was born with the mind of a wild animal, and even after its education remained close to nature.]

Presence Detection: A+. Servant can detect and track the location of geographical objects and most beings within a wide range of several miles. [Enkidu's connection to nature was of highest quality.]

Divinity: A+. Servant can on occasion alter or ignore the ordinary rules of the world in favor of its will due to its status as a divine spirit. [The king of the gods and the goddess of creation made Enkidu, thereby making him nearly a divine being himself.]

* * *

Gilgamesh cutting loose against the only being considered his equal? Yeah, that pretty much ends the war right there, along with everything in a ten-mile radius.

Next up: Rider vs. Rider! Stay Night vs. Zero! Who will win in a bout between Medusa and Broskander!


	2. Riders' Duel 1

Which War is better, the Fourth or the Fifth? Well, the only way to find out is, obviously, to throw the Servants at one another and find out who wins! First up, Saber Versus Saber!

"I shall endeavor to best my opponent with honor and dignity. May we have a good match!" The tiny blonde drew her sword and faced her foe...

Waaaaiiit a minute... Oh yeah, Saber shows up in both wars! Silly me. Let's fix that, shall we?

First up, Rider versus Rider: the Maligned Monster and the King Among Men!

I don't own anything from the Nasuverse.

* * *

The two figures faced each other from across the battlefield, one staring intently, and the other seeing nothing at all through her blinds.

The man, redheaded and tall with broad shoulders, let out a booming laugh, his face lighting up like a summer day.

"So!" he roared, flexing a bicep thicker than most men's necks, "Will you tell me your name, worthy opponent? I can feel your presence, hungry and cool like a cavern's darkness. No doubt you would make a wonderful lieutenant should you join me. What say you?"

The night breeze blew between, rustling through the grass like whispers.

"My name is my own," the woman finally responded, "and I acknowledge only one master." Her floor-length hair swirled around her, and her pale skin glowed phantasmally in the moonlight, a striking contrast against her black garb. "Let us begin," she said softly, and a metal chain materialized in one hand, a nail-shaped dagger on the end of it.

"Very well. Let us indeed," the man chuckled, and drew his sword with a flourish. "With this one stroke, I, Iskander, King of Conquerors, claim sovereignty!" He swung down and the world tore. Darkness wreathed with lightning formed a gate through which erupted horns, and then twin bulls, and lastly the chariot that they drew.

"The Gordius Wheel," the female murmured to herself appreciatively, swinging the dagger on her chain in a lazy circle, "an offering to Zeus that you claimed for yourself." Her lips quirked. "Well, I can always appreciate a slap to the gods' faces, and it seems to suit you."

"Although my true noble phantasm is another, this mount is an adequate reflection of my abilities," he agreed. "And, you are Rider as well, are you not? Come display your mount!" he challenged.

"No thank you, I'd rather steal yours," the woman replied easily, and burst into motion. Iskander swung his sword up as her dagger lashed out at his face, deflecting it half a foot from his nose, as his enemy closed the distance faster than he could react, and she was upon him. The dagger lashed out a second time and he chose to ignore it as it dug into his shoulder, instead meeting her charge with a savage downward chop that aimed to split her skull.

The female rider twisted around it instantly and raced past him, hurling the nail at his knee one final time. Iskander merely moved to one side as he charged, but she had already boarded the phantasmal chariot, and smiled predatorily.

"Yah!" she called once, snapping the reigns. The bulls snorted and charged at their former master like a two-member stampede. Iskander's eyes widened at the impossible sight and he rolled out of the way. The chariot passed within six inches of him, and as it did, though he could not get to his feet, he swung his sword fiercely at the wheel, carving a gash into it, although not a crippling one.

He rose to his feet as the chariot pulled a tight turn, leveling two trees as it did so. He stared evenly at where the eyes of his enemy would be, were it not for her blindfold.

"That should not be possible," he said finally. "The Gordius Wheel is my noble phantasm, formed from the crystallization of my legendary exploits, and only I ever held the reigns. No other being should be able to pilot it, save perhaps a few of my close comrades. How did you gain the skills?"

"You said it yourself. I, too, am a Rider. And while this is a noble phantasm, it is also something that can be ridden. Thus, I can ride it." Silence hung between them for a moment. Then he laughed.

"Bwaaaah ha ha ha ha ha haaaaah!" Iskander howled. "Oh, that I would make such an amateur mistake. Shame. _Shame, shame, shame._ I am shamed!" he roared, still laughing. "Not since I was a child under Aristotle have I ever made such a fool miscalculation! Oh, that all my generals and men might see me now…" he trailed off into chuckles. "I should have taken you much more seriously from the beginning, instead of speaking. Now, let us speak with our deeds instead." Iskander smiled like nothing so much as a giant bear.

"A king is the greatest of all men: more passionate, more visionary, more magnificent," he told her. "The king's victories are the greatest, for they shine back on all his followers, just as the small fires of their victories light the tremendous blaze that is my own…

"But of course, the king's failures are correspondingly great, and he must take responsibility for calamity as much as he does for prosperity. I thank you for reminding me of this." He lowered his stance and set his shoulders.

"So come at if he dare, lady Rider," he finished. There was no response save one.

"Hyah!" she cried, snapping the reigns, and the bulls charged. The king did not flinch, he merely tensed as they approach, and as they struck, he roared.

"_Grrraaaaaaaaaahhhhhh_!"

The ground tore, the air echoed, and the wind itself dared not stir. And then it was over.

"Impossible," the woman whispered as the truth was before her. A hand gripping a horn on each bull, Iskander, king of conquerors stood before her. His muscles were tensed, his teeth grit, his feet buried into the earth, and his brow drenched with exertion.

But his back was unbowed, and the bulls stood docile beneath his hands.

"How…?"

"You may have mounted them, but these bulls know their master," Iskander replied. "Shall we-"

The dagger lashed at his faced, but he clapped his hands together, catching it just as the point broke the skin on his nose. A single trickle of blood drew a line down his face.

"Now, let us see how you like having your weapon turned against you, milady." Hands wrapped around the blade, he took a step back and pulled with all his might. Rider instantly found herself torn from the chariot, flying face first towards her foes, who reared back a single fist.

A sickening crunch marked the reversal of the female Rider's direction through the air. She slammed into and through a tree trunk thicker than she was, and hit the tree behind it hard enough to leave a crater. She dropped to the dirt, tangled in her hair and spitting a mix of blood, saliva, and three broken teeth.

"Most impressive," Iskander laughed, taking the reigns of his chariot. "Now witness my mount in its full glory. Via Expugnatio!"

If the bulls had been a stampede before, now they were an avalanche given life and wreathed in Zeus's lightning. Though she threw herself to the side with all her speed, the charge still struck her in the side, shattering several ribs as Iskander leaned and swung his sword.

_That was close,_ the lady thought as she got to her knees after the chariot had passed. _Four ribs shattered, my leg is broken, I'm concussed, and _- !

Her left arm was severed at the elbow. Rider touched her tongue to the stump as it leaked blood and prana, and grimaced.

"You fought with great cunning, milady," Iskander said respectfully as the bulls pawed the ground and snorted. "An honorable bout, and I am glad that many of my enemies were neither as quick-witted nor as daring as yourself."

"…No," the woman answered calmly.

"Oh ho! What do you disagree with in my assessment?"

"I fought foolishly, and was too brash in my underestimation of you. Or didn't you notice?"

"You mean, notice that you have not used your noble phantasm this entire match? Yes, I was wondering. Would you care to now?"

"No. Of my three, one takes too long to manifest, one I am too injured to summon, and while my third might slay thee, it would not be my victory." She chuckled grimly. "Despite my misgivings, I have…enjoyed, I suppose, fighting a man as upfront as you. Perhaps it is your charisma, perhaps it is our mutual divinity and origins, or perhaps another thing entirely. But should we ever meet again I would not hold back my true powers. You said that you rely on another noble phantasm entirely?"

"Indeed, I do. In my chariot I may rush ahead to trample my enemies, but with that I truly display my might as King of Conquerors."

"Then if we ever meet again, let us both bring our full strength to bear, King of Conquerors."

"Let us indeed," he agreed. "I ask again, will you tell me your name?"

"Not yet, Iskander. You must tell it to me, and maybe then I will join your army." She chuckled grimly and pulled herself to her feet. "Now, our battle is not yet ended." She grabbed her dagger with her one good hand and pointed it at him. "Let us fix that."

"As you wish. Charge!" he roared, and they thundered forward deafeningly. The female Rider stood unflinching as the bulls bore down on her. A moment passed, and it was ended.

Iskander chuckled wryly and raised a hand to his cheek, cut by her last throw of her blade. "A good match. Let us meet again some time."

* * *

It was...surprisingly hard to write this. Not because of the fighting, but because when you look at their capabilities, Medusa seems almost built to take out Iskander. However, I knew public opinion would crucify me if I let that happen, so here we are. That rematch they mentioned will be happening soon.

I admit, though, writing Medusa in character was really hard... I just had to say Broskander's rank A charisma brought out her verbose side. Speaking of which, I noticed something interesting. Who are the three people (incidentally, the three survivors) who are most changed by their Servant. Kiritsugu, Kirei (even if Gil isn't exactly his Servant, they are still in close connection), and Waver. What's the similarity between Arturia, Broskander, and Gil? They're all Kings, and thus, they all have high charisma (B, A, and A+ respectively). It makes sense, but I wonder how much of that was planned out in advance.

Review if you thought I pulled off a succinct, realistic, and still awesome fight. If not, tell me what to do better, and I might rewrite and clean it up. Cheers!


	3. Riders' Rematch

Rider versus Rider, the re-match!

I own nothing of the Nasuverse.

* * *

Two figures, male and female, stood once more on a barren battlefield.

"We've been here before, so let's skip the niceties," the woman said. "Show me the phantasm that you truly rely on, and I will bare my full strength in turn."

"But of course," the man chuckled. The wind picked up, whipping around him. "There are many important things for a king. He is responsible for all those under him in triumph and tragedy. He must lead by example, being that paragon that all others strive for: the most passionate, the most determined, the most _alive_!"

"I see," the woman answered calmly.

"But the most important thing is this:"

Light, pure white and blinding, lashed out from the king, enveloping everything. The female Rider did not flinch at its touch, knowing that it was not the attack, but when it had passed she grew very, very still.

"The King is never alone!"

**_"Aye!"_**

It was like a wall of sound had slammed into her head, the woman thought.

The roar was deafening as thousands of soldiers—tens of thousands—marched into view on the sandy wasteland. Metal gleamed in the furnace-like sun for as far as any could have seen. The march of boots was like a distant waterfall: constant and immeasurable. The scent of sweat and skin and metal and prana began to trickle into her nose as they approached, to varied to pick out any individual.

The female Rider swallowed once and drew a single, shaky breath.

"I suggest you call your phantasm quickly, Lady Rider," the King of Conquerors challenged. "Here we come!"

And with the deafening roar of a million answering yells, the ocean of human flesh rolled over the sand.

Quickly, the female spirit drew her dagger across her neck, and for a moment Iskander feared that she had cowardly sought a quick end rather than face him. But that conclusion passed more quickly than it had arrived as a summoning circle etched itself into the air.

Light brighter than the blazing sun over head, and a purer white than new snow, erupted like an explosion. The armies of Iskander slowed their charged as, man and king alike, they looked up in wonder at the legend which flew before them.

"Bellephron? Perseus?" Iskander wondered to himself. "But weren't they both men? Though if it happened to Arthur…"

"If I may interrupt, my king," said one of his lieutenants, stepping up to the side of the chariot. Unlike all the other men, he wore the modern garb of a lord—a suit and tie—and though his slim face was hard, it did not seem unkind.

"Waver, my boy," he chuckled. "By all means go ahead."

"According to my student, the Rider of the Fifth Holy Grail War was none other than Medusa, whose legend was rather inaccurate in conveying her true personality. Also," he grinned and held up a copy of the _Illiad._ "Feeling inspired, my King?"

Rider laughed. "Keep it, and I'll call you if I do. But Medusa…well, that would explain the mask. Archers, spearmen: bring it down!"

"**Aye!**" the men roared back, and weapons filled the skies, all aimed at the ancient Pegasus.

"_Bellerophon_!" Medusa cried in response, and her anti-army phantasm became a comet of white fire that tore into the men on the ground.

"Ropes! Ties her down when she descends!" he ordered as his foe circled around for another attack. "Aim for Rider, not her mount!"

_"Fervor, me sangre,"_ Waver chanted, bringing forth his own weapon. Quicksilver circled around him and lashed out and the legendary beast.

As the second attack ended a few men on ropes were pulled up into the sky when the Pegasus re-ascended, and Medusa was observed pulling an arrow from her arm. Though still unseeing, Medusa turned her head to Iskander, and smirked in pure challenge as she re-aimed her mount at him.

"Come and try!" the King of Conquerors roared in acceptance of her challenge, spurring Bucephalos into a furious head-on charge.

"_Bellerophon_!" she answered, and the comet of white fire dived down to meet him in reply.

"Loose!" a number of commanders ordered. Arrows and spears shot towards the point of collision in response, unafraid of hitting their king as well. They trusted he was strong enough to survive.

As the Pegasus rose once more over a dozen men clung to each rope, but it was too strong. They were dragged into the air as more and more of their fellows piled on, hoping to anchor it down with the weight of their own lives.

Its rise slowed, and more arrows arced up and into it. There would have been more drops on a rainy day than there were shafts in the air as they nearly blotted out the sun. Medusa, however, had eyes for only one man.

"You survived?" she asked incredibly. Iskander clung to the top of her mount's front leg and smiled like a tiger, slowly climbing up toward its neck.

"It was a near thing," he admitted, and indeed, the king was in poor shape. His cloak and armor had been blown away by the impact, and vicious burns covered over half his body. One finger was gone from his left hand, the viscera that was once his left eye trickled down his warped and bloody cheek, and his left ear had either been melted or simply from his face.

But the king was alive, and he was climbing closer.

"I salute your endurance," Medusa commended, and lashed her dagger at his face. Iskander's right arm, still somehow holding his gladius, flew up and deflected the missile.

It stopped his progress for a moment, but he then threw the blade at her head. Although it spun faster than most eyes could see, she leaned out of the way easily.

By that time, however, gravity had swung the deflected dagger and chain back toward the king, and he latched onto it with his now free hand.

With shocking speed Iskander loped up the length of links, closing the distance between him and his foe.

"Hades's crown!" Medusa swore as he swung at her head, needing both hands to block his fist. She felt something in her arm crack beneath the strain. Iskander swung his leg over the Pegasus's neck and, despite sitting reversed, grabbed the reins with one hand.

"And now our positions reverse, Madam Medusa. Another good bout, though, but it is time to bring this down." He attempted to pull the Pegasus lower, further into the grasp of the soldiers who sought to anchor it, as more arrows and spears filled the air.

"It brings me no pleasure to do this," Medusa gritted out, vying for control of the reins through strength and calling on her monstrous nature to momentarily overpower him. "I had hoped to defeat you in genuine combat. But this will need to suffice."

"Oh?" Iskander's eyes widened in realization as her free hand moved to her face, but he was too slow to give the order 'Look away!'

"Breaker Gorgon."

The world went from full of the roar of life, to instantly silent. Mutely, the statue of Iskander fell from the Pegasus, landing unbroken in the endless sands. Where it should have been the head of the monument to his achievement, instead it looked merely like yet another stone among the almost endless field of gray figures.

"I'm sad, King of Conquerors," Medusa, admitted, dropping to the ground beside her fallen foe. "You deserved a better end than this. Not betrayed and doomed by your own statistics. Still, a win is a win." She reached out a hand to shatter the stone. "This battle is mine."

An arrow pierced clean through her palm.

Swinging around in shock, Medusa saw a dark-skinned man in a turban slowly notch another arrow to his bow - _Porus, King of Paurava_, she identified - when something else whistled through the air behind her. Instantly, she threw herself to one side, and a whip of silver split the sand she'd stood upon.

"What is that?" she hissed, seeing the sphere of mirror-bright liquid metal it had originated from. Then she jerked her head to the side once more, another arrow nicking her cheek. "How?"

More figures, less than half a dozen in total, quickly approached through the rocky garden.

"Though eternally loyal to the King," one explained, "we are Heroic Spirits ourselves as well. And as the King is the sum of his men, so are his men an extension of the king. We shall slay you in his place."

"This battlefield will not last long," Medusa answered. In fact, the sky and stone had already begun to show cracks.

"Hopefully, our Independent Action will let us last long enough," Waver answered from inside the sphere.

"We shall see," was all Medusa answered.

* * *

Gasping for breath, Medusa dropped to one knee as the last of her enemies dissolved. One of her eyes was put out, six arrows grew from her chest, and she had a hand severed at the wrist. Having called upon her monstrous strength, her form was twisted like that of the Gorgon, though the change was nowhere near complete. Wheezing as blood filled her lungs, she slumped next to the statue and smiled.

"I win, King of Conquerors. But it is not an experience I would undergo again. Perhaps the next time the Ionian Hordes are called, I will join your role-call. Good night." And she closed her eye to sleep beneath the moon.

* * *

Well?


	4. Lancer du Loc

As you may have noticed, I already posted this as a separate story. I'm also putting it here because I'm deleting the other story in about a week.

This always bugged me about Fate/Zero's Berserker and Kariya. Kariya hates Zouken's guts, and the feeling is most definitely mutual. Why on earth would he trust that Zouken's 'extra line' would help him instead of screwing him over? In fact, it did screw him over! Berserkers need the most prana to function, and Kariya got that prana by the worms eating his insides! Had Lancelot not been Berserker then Kariya would have...well, he still would have died, but it would have taken longer. More importantly, how would a sane Lancelot interact with Arturia? Read on and see my answer.

A few quotes, in quotations, are taken from Moczo's Family Affairs one-shot. Read it and the rest of his work, which is hilarious!

I don't own Fate/Stay Night, Fate/Zero, or anything else from the Nasu-verse.

* * *

"Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate," Kariya intoned in the basement of the Matou Manor. Behind him he could hear that foul monster whom he shared blood with shift. Kariya had come to Zouken to take back Sakura, and save her from the hell she had been dropped into, but he lacked the power and he knew it.

Zouken might be a monster, but he was an old, clever, and powerful monster. No one was even sure how old he was, but he had definitely survived at least one century, and had used that time to build up his power base in Fuyuki. Almost nothing could hope to challenge him on his home ground.

So instead, Kariya had made a deal with the devil. He would return to the family and take up his position as a magus to serve as the family's representative in the Holy Grail War. If he won the Holy Grail, Zouken would give him Sakura in exchange for it.

"Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Shut. Repeat five times." Behind him Kariya just barely heard Zouken lean forward, and a hiss of eager breath, and suddenly he was filled with misgivings. Just before beginning the ritual to summon a Servant, Zouken had given him an extra line to add, saying it would provide his Servant with extra power.

But why would he trust Zouken's words?

The man was undoubtedly petty enough to sabotage their chances if it meant getting back at the prodigal traitor of the family. After all, he had time to spare. The old man had originally intended to sit out this War completely and wait for the next. He would lose nothing by sabotaging his chances, but would gain revenge as the ghoul watched him suffer and struggle unsuccessfully.

_'If there really was a line that added power to a Servant,'_ Kariya realized, '_then why wouldn't it have been added to the chant from the very beginning? There must be a cost,'_ he concluded. '_No doubt it will give my Servant more power, but at a price that I cannot pay.'_ He decided to skip the extra chant and go to the last line as he had originally memorized.

"Let it be filled fivefold for every turn, simply breaking asunder with every filling," he finished, and the ritual circle activated, a figure appearing within.

"What?" Zouken snarled viciously from behind him. "Why did you not alter the chant as I said?"

"...Because you're a lying, evil, child molesting, deceitful bastard who I don't trust as far as I could throw?" Kariya suggested innocently, and then turned to face his Servant.

"Servant Lancer, by your summoning I have come forth," the figure declared, revealing himself to be a knight wielding a white shield and jousting lance, kitted in full armor. "I ask of you this, are you my master?"

"Yes, Servant Lancer, I am your Master in this war. My name is Kariya."

"You fool," Zouken sneered "The Mad Enhancement of the Berserker class would have made this knight far stronger!"

"So that was your plan," Kariya mused, standing to face his family's head. "But I remember that Berserker uses massive amounts of prana in his fights. Such a burden would have shortened my life, no doubt, much to your amusement."

Zouken snorted. "Do as you wish, you fool," he said dismissively, walking up the stairs of the dungeon. "Begone from my house. But feel free to return and visit young Sakura if ever your dedication should start to waver," he added from the top of the stairs. "I'm certain that she'll appreciate the moral support in the midst of her training." Kariya turned his head and spat as Zouken closed the door behind him.

"I sense that there is much bad blood between you, Master," Lancer observed calmly.

"Yes," Kariya answered simply, before a coughing spasm struck. He felt the worms shift inside him, feeding to create prana as he hacked violently into his hands. When he pulled his palms away from his mouth after the attack had passed, Kariya saw that they were speckled with blood.

"You are not well, Master" Lancer said with concern.

"No, but I will survive the Grail war and win," Kariya said firmly. "Come, I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to."

* * *

"You see, Master? There was no reason for you to remain in alleys and gutters like a rat when a safe bed was so close by," Lancer chided as Kariya settled onto a hotel bed. "Not only is it ill for a sick man to be exposed to the elements, but it leaves you far too exposed to the predations of other Masters." He paused as Kariya coughed and waited for the sick man to finish. "I do wish we had paid for the room, however."

Kariya was not a skilled magus, but hypnotism was a very basic skill.

"I have no money to pay with," Kariya admitted. "Due to my split with my family I won't receive any from them, and I wouldn't take it if I could." He coughed again violently. "It's filthy, just like their souls."

"All of them? You seemed quite endeared to that young girl we saw as you were leaving?" A single tear slipped down Kariya's face.

"Yes," he whispered haggardly, "children are innocent. But more importantly, Sakura is not a true member of the Matou. That is the reason I joined the war."

"An illegitimate child, or an adopted one?" Lancer asked. "And how are you fighting for her sake? Do you intend to use your wish to give her a better life?"

Kariya laughed bitterly. "Something like that," he said, "but in truth I have no wish for the Grail. That old ghoul you saw is named Zouken, the head of the family, and he has promised to free Sakura from the Matou if I can obtain and give him the Grail."

"Free her from the family? In what way, and why? I may be a father myself, though not a very good one, but it seems to me a good thing that she has a family to be a part of," Lancer said. "Or is it that she is your daughter, and you want her back?"

"She is not my daughter by blood, but she is as good as," Kariya said, "and the Matou are not a good family to be a part of. Sakura is the daughter of the only woman I loved by another man. We were originally engaged to be married but I broke off the engagement and tossed aside my family name because of what the Matou are. We are magi of the worst kind."

"I knew of two magi in life, and I hardly think that you could be worse than either of them," Lancelot said.

"You...are a knight of the Round Table, correct?" Kariya asked. "I would assume that you speak of Merlin or Morgana, then. Tell me, did either of them ever violate children using meter-long worm familiars?" Lancer stilled.

"_What_."

"The Matou specialize in absorbtion magic, and our head uses hundreds of insect familiars, but worms are his favorites. Had I married Aoi, she and any children we had would have been trained in and bound to the Matou magic by being tossed into a pit of several dozen meter-long worms," Kariya said, seeming almost to take pleasure in horrifying his Servant. "The worms familiarize themselves with and alter your body by entering it, and while there are carnivorous ones that can chew holes into your skin, they usually prefer to use pre-existing orfices," he continued, only for Lancer to stand up suddenly, pure hatred on his face.

"Master, if you do not wish me to return to that _den of sin_ and raze it to the ground," he snarled, "then you should use a Command Seal to that affect. Otherwise, I will go rescue that girl myself, and purge this world of that foul creature."

"If I thought that would work I would have killed Zouken myself," Kariya replied bitterly. "The thing is no longer human. His worm familiars are what hold his soul to this world now, and unless you can find and destroy every one of them-underground, in buildings, or even concealed in the bodies of other, innocent people-then he won't die when killed, and will return to take even more horrible vengeance. Assuming we can even kill him in the first place, Lancer. This is the center of his power, and he has been building it for over one-hundred years. Could you fight Merlin under such circumstances?"

A long moment passed, and then slowly the Servant sat down.

"No," he said. "But what is there to do then?"

"Play his game and win," Kariya said simply. "And to do that, we only need to kill six other beings as powerful as you, despite the fact that providing prana for your fights literally results in the worms inside me devouring my insides. Easy."

"Should I return to spirit form, then," he asked.

"No, I would rather learn your abilities first, and I prefer speaking face-to-face for that," Kariya said tiredly. "The drain is minimal for now, though that will change when the fighting begins."

"I shall endeavor to win with all speed," the knight promised.

"Thank you. Now, to begin, what is your name? I summoned you using a piece of the Round Table, but beyond that I don't know anything," Kariya admitted. Lancer stiffened.

"I...would rather not say," Lancer said cautiously. "However, my name is not important. One of my Noble Phantasms allows me to disguise myself as other Heroic Spirits, so a fake name will be easy to use. I cannot use their abilities or weapons, but unless another spirit would know the fake one they should be unable to tell."

"And if they do know who you're supposed to be, that's useful information," Kariya said thoughtfully. "It will take planning, but we may be able to do this. You have another phantasm, though? You spoke of multiple ones."

"My second, Knight of Honor, allows me to claim and use any weapon as though it were my Noble Phantasm, including the weapons of others," he explained. "As long as I can lay hands on it, and it can be used as weapon, then I can make it mine. For instance," and here he paused to look around the room. It was very sparse, but his eyes fell on a lamp, which he picked up and indicated the cord.

"You can use a lamp as a weapon?"

"No. It has a higher purpose as a light source," Lancer explained, "but if I were to remove the cord I could use that as a D-class Noble Phantasm and strangling cord. It would not possess any special qualities, but it would be strong and durable, and could harm another Heroic Spirit."

"I see," Kariya breathed. "That...that is a rather frightening power. But you also have a jousting lance, hence your title as Servant Lancer. Is that a Noble Phantasm as well?"

"Yes," he confirmed, "but using it prevents me from using my other two skills, for it reveals my identity and true abilities. Thus, it is a last resort. But when activated it can destroy any weapon, shield, or armor on the third strike, and then I can attack my foe directly through the opening created."

"Interesting, but not very useful," Kariya judged. "You still will not tell me your name?"

"I will obey if you order me, my liege, but I would not reveal myself if it can be avoided," the Servant answered.

"Very well. You may return to Spirit form and watch over my sleep, please. we will decide on the first of your false identities in the morning."

"As you wish, Master."

* * *

"That figure," Lancer whispered from where they hid in an alley, watching the duel between Saber, who possessed an invisible sword, and Berserker dual-wielding a golden lance and a sword with a second of each on his back.

"You recognize one of them?" Kariya asked under his breath.

"Master, we may be able to gain assistance in your quest," he murmured. "Without a doubt, it is King Arthur himself who wields Invisible Air against the insane Berserker. And his Master appears to be a rather genteel lady. No doubt they will both sympathize with our plight if we should explain it."

"You mean the Saber with the invisible sword is King Arthur?" Kariya asked skeptically.

"Yes. I would recognize my Liege anywhere. We were comrades at the Round Table, and fought together for many years," he agreed.

"...Lancer, does your disguise interfere with your eyes?" Kariya asked.

"No, why?"

"Because that Saber is a _girl_! In a dress! Breasts! Long hair! Short and petite! Isn't King Arthur supposed to be more...manly? A beard at least? And wasn't he married to Guinevere?" The Servant shifted guiltily, but answered.

"The gender of the king is unimportant," Lancer said firmly. "His majesty was the greatest of kings, a dragon in human form, a force of nature on the battlefield, and a wise and just ruler for all his life!"

"...And a girl."

"Well, yes, but that was not widely known," Lancer hedged. "The truth of the king's gender was known only to the most trusted of knights: myself, Gawain, Galahad, Bedevere, Sir Ector before his death, and Sir Kay, of course."

"And Merlin and Uther Pendragon?" Kariya asked idly, watching Saber dance around Berserker, constantly adapting to his fighting style as Berserker switched between the four weapons he had.

"Well, yes," Lancer admitted. "And that wretch Mordred, now that I think of it...and Morgana...and Guinevere, of course."

"Of course," Kariya said drily. "So it really wasn't that much of a secret at all, then?"

Before Lancer could answer, Rider appeared, crashing a large chariot drawn by bulls onto the battlefield.

"Ho ho!" The giant redhead in the chariot roared. His voice was so strong as to almost be a physical force, pushing Kariya to his knees. "I see before me some skilled warriors. Tell me, I know that we are in the Grail War for our own purposes, but would either of you consider surrendering and joining my army? You will be rewarded, and will have the honor of serving Alexander the Great, King of Conquerors, in his campaign across the world!"

"Mnrg!" Berserker grunted, pausing his duel.

"...As a King myself, I could never bow to another," Saber said.

"Hmm, I can understand that," Rider agreed. "Still, I can sense that there are other Servants present. Come forth and I offer you the chance to swear loyalty to the King of Conquerors!"

_Permission to show myself?_ Lancer asked.

_Go wild,_ Kariya agreed.

"I am Servant Lancer!" he announced, leaping out of the shadows wearing bronze armor over a toga, a bronze helmet, and holding a spear in one hand. "Know that you have the honor of facing the Invulnerable Achilles!"

"Bwa ha ha ha!" Rider laughed. "Tell me, Sir Lancer, would you join me in quest for domination?"

"I already serve another Master, I'm afraid," he answered easily, making efforts to keep from staring at Saber. "Still, perhaps the next time we meet something could be arranged." Lancer was not certain what he wished for, but he knew that his Master's wish was selfless and noble. He would forfeit his own goals to save the young maiden, and if Rider would help in exchange for an alliance, then he would try to forge one.

But _fealty_ he had sworn to his king, and to Arturia only would he kneel.

"And what say you?" Rider asked, turning to side. A golden figure stared down at them from atop a light post.

"This is the measure of kings in this era?" he asked scornfully. "Truly, the world went to the _dogs_ once I was gone. I am Gilgamesh, the first hero, and king of kings. Mind your place, Iskander the Brute."

"Iskander the Great," a voice echoed from the shadows. "You were the Servant I had originally hoped to summon, until my deceitful apprentice stole my catalyst. I had to summon someone else with the spare, and place him under Mad Enhancement in the hopes of offsetting the power difference. Tell me, would your Master by any chance be named Waver Velvet?"

"Eep!" squeaked a voice from the back of the chariot.

"I thought as much. Well, my poor student, it appears I have one last lesson to teach you: how magi kill one another, and all the pain and terror involved in this. Berserker, engage."

"Ua," the mad Servant grumbled, and blurred forward.

"Via Expugnatio!" the chariot literally thundered forward, wreathed in lightning. Berserker flipped into the air mid-charge and swung his sword down.

Rider threw up his spatha and the air screamed as the two blades met, as everything seemed to slow down.

And then Berserker's other hand, holding the short, golden spear, lashed forwards towards the figure cowering in behind his Servant.

Time unfroze as a glowing metal bar flew through the air, thrown by Lancer, knocking the golden lance off-course, while Rider roared and heaved, throwing Berserker into the air as his chariot continued forward. The insane soldier flipped, reorienting himself, and launched at Rider's exposed back the moment he touched the ground.

Saber met him, locking her blade with his to stop Berserker in his tracks.

"Most amusing..." Gilgamesh murmured, observing quietly.

"It is the height of rudeness to ignore an opponent you've already engaged," she chided stiffly. "Your duel with me is incomplete." She broke away from the lock when Berserker whipped the golden lance at her head, losing not a strand of hair as she ducked the blow.

Only to discover on Berserker's next attack that he had switched weapons, dual-wielding the two lances and sweeping the longer red one at her head. It dispelled Invisible Air, and screeched when it slid off Saber's blade as she parried.

And he had switched weapons again, drawing the longer of his two swords to replace the golden spear and slicing it at her head.

_The constant change of arms is difficult to deal with, _Saber thought to herself, _but at least his sword skills are below my own, so I can read his movements._ At which point Berserker, perhaps under instructions from his master, upped the ante again.

"Moralltach!" the mad Servant roared while he swung, and his blade flashed. A cut opened up along Saber's collarbone, beginning at her left shoulder and ending just above her right breast.

"Tch!" she hissed. _I felt his sword hit mine and glance off! How didn't I block? ...That's his Noble Phantasm, but what does it do?_ Her shock didn't keep her from parrying and blocking the next blow, but several exchanges later, he sliced his golden lance across her sword arm, though she gave him a gash across his stomach in exchange. Saber leapt back to gain distance, and that was all the invitation the watchers needed.

"Vio Expugnatio!" Rider roared again, this time clipping Berserker, who didn't quite dodge quickly enough.

"Get up you fool, and kill Velvet already!" echoed Kayneth Archibald's voice.

"Ua," Berserker snarled, turning towards the once more exposed back of the King of Conquerors. But where the cowering mortal had once been, now there was only empty space in the rear of the chariot.

Saber did not take her eyes off of her foe, but addressed Rider. "I would thank you for the assistance, but we are not allied, and I prefer to fight my battles one on one. It is the way of honoring a strong enemy."

"I was merely expressing my displeasure that he attempted to attack my poor, defenseless master," Rider assured her condescendingly. "Naturally, I could not do so with his own Master without lowering myself to the same level, so I merely did what I could."

"Gruh," Berserker muttered, and charged towards the vulnerable newly located Waver Velvet, who was trying to hide in the shadow of a pile of crates. Halfway there a streetlight pole swept horizontally across the space, catching Berserker on his already injured mid-section and throwing him back towards the other two servants.

"Bull's eye," Lancer congratulated himself, letting the make-shift weapon drop.

"Vio Exugnatio!" Rider roared, aiming for a finishing blow.

"Berserker, return," Kayneth ordered, invoking a Command Seal. The servant vanished in a flash of light inches away from being mangled by Rider's attack. The three remaining Servants paused, eyeing each other uncertainly. Rider's attack had ended with him dangerously close to Irisviel, while Lancer was still within easy range of Waver, and Saber was injured.

"And so the rat runs away. Three warriors couldn't even finish him," Gilgamesh said to himself, shaking his head. Then he vanished in a burst of golden sparkles.

The three on the ground eyed each other and, with their codes of honor, came to an unspoken agreement.

"It seems a shame to fight now, after all that," Lancer began, walking away from Velvet. "A truce? Until tomorrow night, perhaps?"

"Gra ha ha ha! Yes, that seems agreeable." Rider nodded, moving away from Saber's master and towards his own. "Having defended my master, I feel myself too deeply in your debt to fight right now, and I cannot bear to crush an already injured opponent."

"And you, your Majesty?"

"A truce seems most agreeable," Saber nodded. "I am far from at my best, and a wise warrior does not fight when they do not have to. Until tomorrow night then, gentlemen?"

"Agreed," Lancer stated, eyeing Saber, before dematerializing to return to his master.

* * *

"A Servant is approaching," Irisviel noted as the bounded fields around the Einzbern castle went off. She frowned, pulling up feed from the security cameras Kiritsugu had installed throughout the woods.

"A Servant? In broad daylight? I thought that the War would only occur at night," Saber said, and then noted, "not that I am a stranger to treachery in war, though. Is it Berserker? And should I go intercept them"

"I...wait. It looks like Lancer. And his Master?"

"Lancer? I would not have expected him to have ignoble intentions. Do you think they are here to pursue an alliance, then?"

"It looks like one of them is holding a white flag. Or injured. Do you think he's trustworthy?"

"He guarded another Servant's Master when treachery, or even inaction, would have removed a powerful player from the game. Rider may well be the most dangerous of the Servants, aside from myself."

"So either trustworthy, or insane. Or..."

"Or?"

"Lancer and his master might have some motivation other than the Holy Grail. Either way, you should go greet them. I'll call Kiritsugu and stream him the video from the solar, you bring them there if they come in peace."

[A solar is an old-fashioned word for a sun room, like an indoors veranda.]

"I will," Saber affirmed and took off into the woods.

The servant of the sword raced through the trees, putting her rank A speed to good use, and was at the location Irisviel had indicated in under a minute. She heard voices and footsteps approaching, and stepped onto the path.

"Come no further, Lancer, until you announce your intentions! Are you here as friend or foe?"

"Friend," rasped a weak voice. "We want to parlay. Make an alliance." Saber looked closer at the pathetic figure that was apparently Lancer's Master. He was thin and pale, and sweating heavily. One arm was looped over his Servant's shoulders for support, while the other held a makeshift white flag: a pillowcase tied to a stick. The magus's eyes widened and he broke into a coughing fit, pressing the flag he'd been waving to his mouth.

Saber's eyes were sharp enough to see spots of red when he pulled the cloth away.

"You appear ill. Do you require assistance reaching the castle? I can carry you," she offered, sheathing her sword.

"That is not necessary, your majesty," Lancer said. "I can carry my Master. We merely thought it best to approach slowly, on foot, until we were admitted into your hospitality."

"You have it. Unless my Master uses a Command Seal you will be safe beneath our roof, and if so he will need another to make me obey any other order he ever gives," Saber guaranteed. Kariya caught the misused pronoun and frowned, but said nothing.

"I would never doubt your hospitality, your Majesty," Lancer told her, picking up his sick Master. They raced back to the castle in silence to find tea and Irisviel waiting for them.

"May I offer you some tea?" she asked, pouring as they took their places at the table. The ill man answered, his voice weak and raspy.

"I...thank you. My name is Kariya Matou, Master of Lancer. I wanted to form an alliance with you."

"I am Irisviel non Einzbern, Master of Saber. what kind of alliance did you have in mind?"

"Before that," Lancer said, "I should inform you that this is not my true appearance, nor am I Achilles."

Saber and Irisviel both raised their eyes as Kariya gave a nod.

"A personal skill for disguise? Or is it a Noble Phantasm allowing you to conceal your identity?"

"The latter, my king," Lancer said, and his form shifted, skin paling, plate armor appearing, shoulders growing broader, and his hair lengthening as it changed color. Saber bolted to her feet in visible shock.

"Lancelot!"

"Precisely, my Liege," he agreed, kneeling.

"My dear friend, it is so good to see you again," she murmured, her voice teary, though her eyes were dry.

"Wait, Saber," Irisviel said with a frown, placing a hand on her Servant's arm to keep the blonde from embracing her knight. "I doubt they would come up with something this complicated for betrayal, especially since they would have had to recognize you first, but there's always the possibility that the same Noble Phantasm that allowed him to imitate Achilles is now letting him look like Lancelot. Is there some way to prove his identity?"

"Yes," Saber agreed. "What did I say after I first met the good Sir Galahad, if you are really my closest friend?" Lancelot shifted uncomfortably.

"Are you referring to when you swore to strip me of my knighthood for begetting a child out of wedlock, threatened to unman me with Excalibur, or allowed me to keep both these things on the condition that my son act as a 'tiny, exuberantly friendly chastity belt,' and ensure that I 'never again engage in my wanton rutting with any save thine own wife'?"

"It's him," Saber said drily as both Masters burst out chuckling, before she threw her dignity to one side and embraced the Servant of the Lance. "Oh, my dear, dear friend," she muttered.

"The world is a brighter place that we have met again, your majesty," he agreed, a single tear coursing down one cheek. Their reunion was interrupted as Kariya's laughter devolved into a hacking cough, and Lancer moved to his Master's side. Irisviel grimaced at seeing bloodstains on his lips a the cloth he covered his mouth with.

"You're coughing up blood; that's a very bad sign for your health. Is that why you want the Grail?" she asked intently. "To heal yourself?"

"No," Kariya explained, "this is a side-effect of what I did to enter the war. The truth is, I don't want the Grail. Not for myself, at least." Irisviel motioned for the two servants to take their seats, and then for Kariya to continue. "To start with, what do you know about the Matou magecraft?"

"It specializes in absorption, which refers to taking an external power into one's self and controlling it. It also tends to rely heavily on familiars, I believe, and there is something odd about the Matou family Crest. Lastly, when it was known as the Makiri family the Matou helped organize and create the Heaven's Feel ritual; they developed the idea of the Master and Servant pairings, and were responsible for designing which classes Servants could be summoned into."

"Yes. But go back to what you said about familiars and the Crest. Rather than a regular Crest transplanted from the head to the heir, and made from past magi's circuits, we have Crest worms."

"Worms?"

"It's...easiest just to show you," he said darkly. Then a bulge grew up in his skin from the base of his collarbone. Slowly lengthening, Irisviel felt her gorge rise as the lump traveled half-way up the side of his neck. The bulge grew larger and sharper, pushing against the skin from the inside. Then, like an over-ripe pimple, it popped.

"Oh...oh, Root," Irisviel swore sickly as she stared at the pale green worm poking its head out of Kariya's flesh. The blunt end actually pointed at her, as though it could see, before it sank back into Kariya's flesh with a squelch, closing the wound behind it. "That's...that's..."

"Disgusting," the Master of Lancer agreed darkly. "Being trained as the Matou heir means letting the worms _familiarize_ themselves with your body. And so would anyone who wished to marry into the family. It's why I originally left my home and name behind. I could not do that to the woman I loved."

"Then why did you return?" she asked earnestly.

"The Matou are a dead line; it can no longer produce children with magical circuits. So instead Zouken adopted a child with circuits from another family and trained her as the replacement heir. It's barely been a year, and already Sakura has lost her ability to smile...or to cry."

"What knave would _do that_ to a child?" Saber snarled, smashing her fist against the tabletop. "Who in their right mind would allow it to happen?"

"Tokiomi Tohsaka," Kariya answered, spitting poison. "He only needed one child to inherit his Crest, so he threw away his younger daughter like garbage. But Zouken wants the Grail, and he swore that if I got it for him he would release Sakura from the family."

There was a long silence, interrupted only by the ticking of the clock.

Irisviel bit her lip, tears in her eyes, digging her nails into her palms hard enough to draw spots of blood, and said, "I am a mother. The thought of any child, anywhere, going through that...it's unbearable. I want to help you."

"Indeed," Saber said, stone-faced. She could not yet fully accept the loss of her own chance at the Grail, but she had sacrificed her desires all her life. Once more could only hurt so much, and her honor would not allow this to continue. "To allow such a thing to occur, inaction is inexcusable! Lancelot, you serve my purpose many times in life, and this time..." she swallowed at the pain of the words, and the loss of her hopes that they represented. "...this time my sword shall serve you and your Master's purpose, and all who stand against us shall fall. We _will_ free this girl."

"I cannot express my thanks enough, your majes-"

"But as I said, I am a mother," Irisviel cut in. Her eyes were closed, she refused to look at the others at the table, but both cheeks were wet. "My daughter remains at home under the care of my great-grandfather, who is _also_ capable of terrible things. Our lives-" _made for the sole purpose of containing the Lesser Grail,_ she thought, "-are worth no more to him than Sakura's or yours is to Zouken. I cannot, _cannot_ endanger my daughter by betraying his orders."

"You...you won't help?" Kariya whispered.

"Irisviel-"

"My lady, please-"

"Tomorrow!" she said sharply, holding out one hand to stop the pleading. "I shall call home, discuss things, and if worst comes to worst I will try to arrange for my daughter to be taken safely out of Great-grandfather's hands, if possible. Return tomorrow, and I will answer whether or not I can rescue your little girl without endangering my own." She looked up at Kariya and held his gaze. "And know that either way, my hopes and prayers go with you."

"...I understand," the other master acceded, nodding. "I will take my leave now, and see you after tonight. Thank you."

"Saber, escort them to the perimeter and see them safely off," Irisviel ordered, and rose to find a telephone. She needed to speak with Kiritsugu.

She traveled through the winding corridors and opened the door to the room with the phone, and it immediately began ringing.

* * *

Kiritsugu sat on a bed in the hotel room he used as a base. It was common for things to go wrong in his plans, which was why he always planned redundantly. Implanting Avalon into Iri, and calling Maiya to help him one final time, had been examples of precautions taken against ill luck or misinformation.

It was rare for him to have a stroke of good fortune, however.

It worried him.

"Have you come to a conclusion?" Maiya asked.

"Only that I do not have enough information as yet," he answered. "It seems too good to be true, which means it probably is. But if he's being honest, it could at least double or chances of victory."

"I would have thought that securing the Grail for another Master would drop them down to zero. Or do you refer to double-crossing them at the last moment?"

"That is one option, but there is a second. And my heart is leaning towards it, even if my mind screams that there is too much I don't know."

"Your mind is more often correct in these contexts. You said yourself that you are out of practice," Maiya stated.

"I know," Kiritsugu whispered. "But I keep thinking of what I would do for Illya-what I am doing for Illya-and I can't decide. If I save her successfully it will forge an alliance between two of the knight-class Servants. Two who already know and trust Saber, unless they are far better liars than they seem."

"And if they are lying?"

"Possibly we walk into a trap. Possibly we fail to save the girl. Possibly she gets killed. Possibly they seek revenge on us." Kiritsugu paused as something occurred to him. "This isn't just my considerations, is it?"

"It seems that it is to me," Maiya pointed out.

"No. Saber is already difficult to control." He stood up and began pacing agitatedly. "If we refuse to _try_ to help I risk her turning against me and becoming more difficult to control. While she might not betray me, her disobedience could get her eliminated in a bad moment, to say nothing of the effects of fighting one of her closest comrades."

"That sounds like rationalization. Won't the command seals control her?"

"Rank A mana and magic resistance. If I absolutely had to force her to do something, I might need more than one seal, and her resistance would slow her down, creating openings for an enemy."

"...Perhaps not just rationalization," Maiya allowed.

"I just-" Maiya cut Kiritsugu off with her lips.

"Calm yourself," she scolded, and pushed him onto the bed. "Still your heart and soothe your thoughts, and a solution will come to you."

* * *

Saber walked down the street bathed in moonlight. Though she did not smile, her body hummed in excitement. Always before she had felt that her master was a coward, and likely a misogynist as well. _Though given the era I come from, I am not one to throw such stones,_ the Servant thought to herself, wondering if the word misogynist had been part of the download of the modern era her summoning granted.

She doubted it would have been used in her home time, as the sexes were _not_ equal then, her own case notwithstanding.

"Wait. A bounded field," whispered the man walking beside her. Saber obediently halted as her Master went to work. For the first and possibly only time in the war, the most dangerous duo were openly cooperating.

As Kiritsugu had explained earlier, when telling them why he wouldn't take up Kariya's first offer:

_There was no gain for anyone in what he wanted,_ Kiritsugu had said. _If Zouken Matou is as twisted as Kariya claims, he wouldn't have given away the girl anyway. Or he would have, and then just taken her back after Kariya died. You could see that he doesn't have long left to live._

_So instead of us helping him get the Grail, he's going to help us get the Grail. No, Saber, I don't intend to double-cross him. He'll help us out of gratitude, not hope or desperation._

_I walk the path of least bloodshed. Kill ten to save one-hundred, o__ne to save ten_. He's not going to help us to rescue Sakura. He's going to help us because she's already been rescued.

_Irisviel, stay here. I don't know everything he might have to play, but odds are Zouken's cards will be dangerous in the extreme. I know what type of magics would be used to stay alive as long as he supposedly has, and Kariya's description narrowed down the specifics a lot. We will need to hit hard and fast, with no distractions._

_This time, Saber and I will act as a true Master and Servant, because this will need both our skills. There is no way to attack but from the front, so we will have to draw him out ourselves. Luckily, the older you are the more set in your ways you become. Zouken will not appreciate the attack on his home ground._

_But old mages are also more powerful. It will take everything we have, but if we succeed, the Grail is all but assured to be ours._

"Done," he said softly. "Walk through the breech in this area." Saber nodded stiffly, drawing Excalibur as she entered the hostile territory.

_No matter what, before the new day dawns, Zouken Matou will be dead._

"What is our plan of attack?" she asked quietly.

"Through the front door, using shock-tactics to our advantage. Your magic resistance will neutralize any of his traps, and you can easily crush any physical threats. I will provide covering fire while you search for the girl."

"And what of the _thing_?" she asked, refusing to dignify Zouken with a name or human title.

"Either he will flee, or he will fight. If the former, let him run. If the latter, engage and I will take over searching for the girl."

"What if he takes her as a hostage?" They were within sight of the door of Matou Manor. It had clearly once been a great house, but had fallen into disrepair, much like the family that lived in it.

"He will not. We simply need him dead more than we need her alive. If he kills her, which is what he would have to threaten to stop us, we can honestly tell Kariya that Zouken killed her, and he'll lose his chance at the Grail, as well as have two Servants after his head. Possibly three, depending on how important Tohsaka thinks she is."

"Not very," a decrepit voice echoed from above. Saber's eyes searched, but could find no target. Something rustled.

"Show yourself, coward!" she barked.

"I prefer to call myself a pragmatist," the withered voice replied. "Giving you a target would be most unwise, young lady. I can match a Servant if I must, but would rather not have to. Now...why have you invaded my home? I am not participating in the Grail War, and the foolish boy refused my offer of hospitality, so there's nothing here for you. You wouldn't want the supervisor to hear of this violation, would you?"

"Saber, go!" Kiritsugu ordered, and the King of Knights put her rank A speed to good use, breaking through the front door like paper.

"I have protections against Servants, you know," Zouken's voice chided as a buzzing filled the air.

"Even ones with high magic resistance?" the Magus Killer countered. It went painfully against all of his usual modus operandi, but he needed to keep Zouken focused on him while Saber searched.

"Well, in that case, the best thing to do is kill the master," the old monster replied. The humming in the air increased to a shriek as a swarm of insects rose into the air around him. More troubling, however, was the scores of worms breaking through the ground below and around him.

_'Double Accel!'_ Kiritsugu activated his crest and raced across the few empty patches of ground to hop onto a car's hood.

"Five meter expansion. Fire barrier!" he chanted, invoking his thaumaturgy. Flame blossomed out from around him, incinerating all the insects within five meters, but he was already chanting a second spell. "Sub-maximum range field. Earth binding." He jumped off of the melting car and onto the scorched ground, hissing as the remaining heat sizzled at and began to melt his boots, and touched a hand to the ground. Prana flowed out, spreading around him for over thirty meters and lingering as the familiar worms found themselves unable to move.

Then Kiritsugu collapsed against the ground, not caring that it was mildly cooking his coat, panting. His heart was hammering insanely from the time acceleration, and then using not one but two spells was pushing his limits dangerously. His fingers felt numb as he pulled a bottle out of his pocket and swallowed two pills dry, his heart rate beginning to decelerate.

"What's happ-" The bullet he shot at the man who'd burst out of the ruined door holding a young boy cut his question short.

"Get out of my sight, you useless fool, there are important things going on here," Zouken's voice snapped. The man (a relative of Kariya's, Kiritsugu guessed) needed no further invitation, hightailing it as fast as he could. Kiritsugu took the slight distraction as the blessing it was, regulating his breathing and ensuring all of his guns were still in easy reach.

'_Thank heaven for magus pride,_' he thought to himself. Duels between magi were usually like alternating-turn video games. One side would make a move, and then the other would counter try to pick apart the mystery before making a move of their own, on and on in a loop until one ran out of tricks. It was a stupid tactic that Kiritsugu abused countless times to kill his targets.

And it was exactly the thing he needed right now.

Giving Zouken several interesting mysteries to pick apart would hopefully buy him the time to recover his pulse and catch a second wind. He was a sitting target, but he'd counted on the old man's pride to keep him from abusing that weakness until he'd sadistically picked apart the Magus Killer's secrets.

"Well," the voice mused, "the fire was rather average, if effective. But what _did_ you do to my pets on the ground? Ah, I see. Ingenious. You mixed the idea of Binding with the earth element to bind to the ground everything touching it. Thus, all my worms beneath the soil can no longer move, and if I were to step within range I would find myself similarly stuck and immobile as well. I may steal that idea, if you don't mind. After all, binding and absorption are very close."

'_Just keep monologuing_,' Kiritsugu prayed, getting to his feet. A shrill scream from within split the night, and then a window exploded as Saber burst out with a terrified Sakura under her arm. She hit the ground hard but recovered easily as the swarm of carnivorous insects descended on her. Even with one hand used to hold Sakura, who was also throwing off her balance, Saber cut the insects from the air ten at a time, spinning fluidly.

Then suddenly, the swarm pulled away. It hung about the three of them thick enough to blot out their view of the surrounding area, but not one insect came within five meters of them.

"Shh... Be at ease, little one. We are here to save you," Saber whispered to the quivering Sakura, who merely scrunched her eyes shut tighter and whimpered.

"I fail to see how you hope to accomplish that," Zouken mused, "or what you hope to get if you do. Any other time my heir might have been a valuable steal, but very little our our crest or mysteries are with her now. What few I did not entrust to the fool I kept for myself, to be used against such interlopers."

"Well, then," Kiritsugu suggested with mock levity, "why not let us take her when we go? She's obviously not important to you right now, so why bother stopping us?"

"Aside from the fact that you violated my home? I just don't feel like."

"A liar and a coward," Saber spat. "Knave is too good a name for you, pestilent dog! You wouldn't be so brave if you left your shadows, but you must know that the stars themselves would recoil in disgust."

"If you're trying to lure me out, you're not doing a very good job," Zouken countered.

"Point. Saber, do it." Kiritsugu prepared another fire barrier mentally, knowing that he could cast that and one more tonight. It all came down to this.

'_Release the Wind King,'_ she thought to herself, and swung her sword in a wide arc.

The hurricane force gale scattered the swarm of insects in a frenzy, and she turned to face the mansion with her sword aimed at the sky. Motes of golden light were already shimmering around it.

"_EX-"_ As her target was not a true fortress, and she wanted to limit the collateral damage, she did not need to charge for as long long. At one third of the power it would be almost instantaneous.

The insects righted themselves and zoomed towards the Magus Killer with a shrieking buzz as Zouken realized her target. His house, which almost certainly held his workshop and the accumulation of centuries of research.

"Kill!" he commanded.

"Expand," Kiritsugu chanted, wreathing himself and Sakura in protective fire.

"_-CALIBUR!" _Saber roared, swinging her sword down. The blast of light from Excalibur, anti-fortress weapon and among the greatest of noble phantasms, simply vaporized the house it struck, leaving behind neither splinters nor ash.

"_Mongrels_!" shrieked Zouken. The flames around the two humans were snuffed out as Zouken absorbed the heat, adding the ambient prana to his own stores. "My worms wil devo-"

There were two sounds that cut him off: first the sound of a bullet striking flesh, however dead and rotten; second, the much louder sound of bullet striking wood, acting as a beacon for _where_ the flesh was.

'_Excellent work, Maiya,'_ Kiritsugu thought towards his assistant, who had made the shots at over 700 meters. He spun to face his 5 o'clock, drawing the Thompson Contender and aiming it at the wretch who had been shot out of the tree.

Zouken shrieked incoherently, the swarm of insects descending on them, and the Magus Killer squeezed the trigger of his mystic code.

In his fury Zouken had activated all of his worms and circuits to crush those who had set back his life's work beneath the weight of the swarm. Under the influence of the origin bullet they all twisted irrevocably, made useless or worse.

There was a scritching sound of pain, and a dry patter as hundreds of bugs rained from a sky. A few legs or wings twitched here and there, but it was obvious that they were all dead, and their master with them.

After more than two centuries of age and evil, Makiri Zouken was dead.

"A fitting end for such a monster," Saber said finally. "Is the child well?" Kiritsugu examined the girl he'd tucked beneath one arm.

"Either she's fallen asleep, or she's fainted. Likely the latter," he said checking her pulse and breathing. Both were present and stable. "Not that I blame her." She weighed almost as much as Illya, he realized idly. "Let's get her to the castle and in bed. Though perhaps a bath and new clothes, first," he added, seeing the wet stain on her nightgown.

* * *

It was ten in the morning when Lancer and Kariya raced onto the Einzbern property and into the castle, meeting no resistance along the way. The former was concerned, the latter frantic with worry until Irisviel, meeting him in the hall as he babbled that the Matou mansion had been attacked the night before and some of the worms had acted up meaning Zouken did something and Sakura was missing, simply led him down the hall to a room and opened the door.

Kariya's frantic pleas for assistance stopped as though she'd hit mute.

Bundled up in clean sheets and a far-too-large nightgown from Irisviel, Sakura lay in a pool of sunlight, sleeping like an angel after the previous hectic night. Her uncle tottered over to her almost drunkenly and collapsed to his knees next to her. He wrapped his arms gently around her and she cuddled into him. Her nose scrunched up, and then her eyes opened gently.

"Uncle Kariya? I had the strangest dream," she whispered softly. Openly crying, Kariya pulled her into a tight hug which she returned as hard as her small arms could manage. Irisviel, Saber, and Lancer all merely stood in the doorway, content to watch. Finally, the older man pulled away and looked over his shoulder at the lady of the house.

"How?" He choked off, uncertain if this was real, or a sick and sadistic dream.

"I couldn't get permission to help you get the Grail," Irisviel began apologetically, but with an angelic smile, "so I decided to save her anyway and get the grail later. you will help, right?"

The worm-ridden man wouldn't pull away from his honorary daughter, but he gave her a look a sheer joy.

"Of course," Kariya swore. "Ask me anything, anything, and will do the best I can." Irisviel smiled softly and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Spend the day with her and have Lancer move your belongings into an adjacent room. Tonight we'll start winning the war."

* * *

Class: Lancer

Name: Lancelot du Loc

Alternate classes: Saber, Rider, Berserker

Strength: B  
Agility: A+  
Endurance: C  
Mana: C  
Luck: B  
Phantasm: B

Class Skills:  
Magic Resistance: C  
Riding: C

Personal Skills:  
Protection of the Fairies: A  
Bravery: B  
Eye of the Mind (True): A  
Guardian Knight: C  
Eternal Arms Mastery: A

Noble Phantasms:  
**For Someone's Glory**: Rank B+ enhancement. Represented by Lancelot's covered shield, For Someone's Glory allows Lancelot to both conceal his true identity and disguise himself as other Heroic Spirits. He can alter the appearance of his clothes, armor, weapons, and body in order to do this, or simply conceal the details of their appearance from observers. It is canceled by the activation of Du Loc.  
**Knight of Honor**: Rank A+ anti-Unit. Allows Lancelot to transform anything he can get his hands on and use as a weapon into a D-rank Noble Phantasm for as long as he holds it in his hands. Even if it is a Noble Phantasm belonging to another Heroic Spirit he can use it flawlessly as though it were his own. He cannot uses something that has a higher purpose than being used as a weapon, but can repurpose items for use as weapons despite not usually being weapons (such as a pool cue by breaking it into a point). He loses the ability to use this in a fight after Du Loc is used.  
**Du Loc**: Rank B anti-Unit. This phantasm takes the form of a jousting lance, and is not representative of a specific deed of Lancelot's, but rather of the accomplishments of all knights at jousting combined with Lancelot's personal superiority among knights. After it activates it has a blunted point until it has struck something (the same thing) three times, representing the three rounds knights would joust with each other. With the third strike, whatever he has attacked, no matter what it may be, shatters along with the blunting on the tip, and Lancelot can use the sharp lance to instantly make a direct strike against his target.

* * *

Yes, I killed Zouken. Ding-dong the #$%^&'s dead! Kiritsugu is OOC, I know, and the closest I can come to justifying it is that he's part influenced as a father, part out of practice being heartless, and part believes that the alliance of another of the knightly classes is too good a chance to back up.

If you compare Lancer!Lancelot to Berserker!Lancelot you'll notice that the latter is actually much stronger. However, reason is a powerful tool as well, and the ability to think and plan is invaluable. In spite of Mad Enhancement the Black Knight was underpowered due to his inability to use For Someone's Glory without a Command Seal. Yeah, I plan to use and abuse that ability. Boo yah.

Anyway, to those people wondering about my other stories, I'm still working on them. This is just a convenient side-project, but it will be nowhere near as long. Three or four chapters at most. I'll try to grind out some updates for my other stories during Thanksgiving break.

Love you all, so please review!


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